The Pretty Things
by Kincaid
Summary: Buffy is dead. Giles and the others prepare to scatter. The foundations of Sunnydale begin to crumble. Faith escapes from prison. Reviews welcome. Constructive criticism craved.
1. Phase 00

Sometimes the thought is enough to push us over the edge. To lose everything in a blinding  
moment of passion. Afterwards, we think back and wonder how it happened. Sometimes there simply  
are no answers. The narratives shift with each telling. There are no absolutes. There is no  
good in the world, just shades of evil.   
  
****  
  
What to do  
What to say  
What to wear on a sunny day  
Who to phone  
Who to fight  
Who to dance with on a Sunday night  
  
Reaching the very edge, you know  
Reaching the very edge  
Going to the other side this time  
Reaching the very edge  
  
-David Bowie   
The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell  
**** 


	2. Phase 01: remains

There was an unusual silence. It hung eerily over the town like a heavy smog. Movement   
was limited, the air stagnant. The acrid smell of iron cloaked any breeze that may have passed.   
****  
It should have been paradise. Could have been. It's a bloody prison. Damned monsters   
rule this town now. There's a blood bar on every corner. Common as bleedin' Starbucks here. I   
tried. Screw this, I'm hopping the pond next week. Ship leaves in six days. With no Slayer,   
where's the fun?  
  
****  
I don't know how it happened. We won, right? We won. Wow. Glory's gone. The world is   
saved. We kicked her ass back to Hell. Boom! Should have been good, right? Know what? It's not.  
I think maybe if I tried to explain it, well...I really can't.   
Everything's so different, you know? It's like a big black cloud of bad landed on   
Sunnydale and wont go away. Without Buffy, there's just not a lot worth doing these days.   
  
Tara and I are gonna travel for a while, I think. See the world while we can. Giles   
said that there wasn't much we could do here anyway.  
  
****  
  
I didn't really think she could die. She's the Buff, right? Savin' the world, 5 years and   
counting. This is insane. Insane end-of-the-world logic. Anya's been...well, I'd say really good   
about the situation, but that'd be a lie. She says she'd feel better holed up in a cave   
somewhere.   
I think we're headed to Pittsburgh instead. Pay a visit to Uncle Rory.   
  
****   
  
It's times like this that I yearn for the days when I had the comfort of the Council   
behind me. They may not be a flawless organization, but the bureaucracy is somehow very soothing   
in the face of forces which cannot be controlled.   
However, I'm no longer a Watcher and have no right to ask for their sympathy. With Buffy   
gone, they'll search for a new Slayer in the hopes that they might be able to move past this   
whole torrid episode with some dignity intact. I suspect, however, that until Faith is killed,   
there will be no new Slayer.   
Faith herself may be in grave danger. I've sent a message to her, since the event, but   
I've had no word back yet. It may already be too late, but I nevertheless felt the need to warn   
her of what may come.   
  
I leave early tomorrow morning. I'm heading back to England. I don't quite know why,   
after all, this turbid little vale has been my home for years now. Nevertheless, I'm leaving it   
behind. Something tells me that I must do my best to forget the previous few years. I shall miss   
Willow and Xander and Dawn the most, I suppose. They will learn to function without my guidance,   
as they eventually must. I hear that they are mostly fleeing town also and that has made my   
decision that much simpler. I simply cannot remain here.  
  
****  
  
Gotta message from Giles today. Whoda thunk the stuffy old bat would have anything to say to me   
these days. Funny how things work out. B kicked it a few weeks ago. Some noble sacrifice or some   
shit like that. The Scoobs are all broken up about it and running away. I don't know, but   
Sunnydale looks to be royally screwed.   
Kinda funny, actually when I think about it. I'm considering leaving soon. If the W.C.   
comes after me, I wanna fight them on the outside. On my own terms. It's not like the guards   
coulda kept me here if I didn't want them to, anyway. I didn't have a reason to leave.   
  
  
'Till now. 


	3. Phase 02: the future

The two women moved hurriedly down the rapidly darkening streets. The smaller woman wore a heavy gray duffel coat, the other a long black knit. Both wore hoods, hiding their hair colour and shading their eyes. They were nearly invisible against the bleak backdrop of the darkened buildings.  
  
There came a low snarl from behind a doorway. A man stepped out in front of the two -no, not a man. His grotesquely disfigured forehead and mouthful of sharp teeth were his defining features. He smiled and chuckled at his luck.  
  
The smaller woman raised her hand distractedly and muttered under her breath.  
  
"Personae"  
  
The creature raised its eyebrows and deferred to the two female vampires whose way he was barring. As he blended back into the wall, the women rushed past, allowing the temporary glamour to dissolve.  
  
Finally they reached their destination. Stepping in through the door of the shop, they removed their coats revealing blonde and red hair beneath the hoods. Willow and Tara stood in the entrance of the Magic Box, their faces visibly relaxing in the haven of light within the store.  
  
Giles sighed audibly. "You both know that this is not the time to be walking about so late. It's simply not safe and I don't see how any of us could do much if the two of you were injured." His face softened a little. The little creases around his eyes seemed to pain him as he pulled his glasses off and wiped the back of his hand against his brow.  
  
"I know. Sorry..it's just.well, sorry." Tara looked down. She felt safe with Willow around but she knew that there were some things that even the two of them would be hard pressed to deal with these days.  
  
"Giles, it's okay. We're okay. We were just packing and lost track of time." Willow walked to the table and sat down facing Giles, Anya and Xander. Tara sat down beside her. There were two extra chairs which had been removed from the table and lined up behind the sales counter. The shelves of the store were nearly bare and there was evidence of newly vacated space. The dust on some of the higher shelves that still bore the imprints of heavy books, recently removed.  
  
"Well, we're all here. We should drink something. I brought Bourbon. When everyone's upset, it's best to get very drunk as soon as possible." Anya pulled a bottle out of her purse. Xander looked at her somewhat strangely. Then he picked up the bottle and looked around for some glasses. Anya proceeded to extract a small package of disposable cups from said purse and the pouring began.  
  
"While becoming intoxicated may seem terribly tempting, is this really the time for it? We must discuss what we're going to do next."  
  
"Next?" Everyone looked at Willow. "Giles, there is no next. It's over. If we don't get out of here, everything with teeth is going to come after us and spread little Scooby bits all over Sunnydale." Her voice was hollow and her expression looked to be cracking a little around the edges. "It's over."  
  
"Yes. Well." Everyone drank. 


	4. phase 03 a return

The man crouched in the dark, empty crypt. .Restless and tense. Every muscle tightened in a static pattern of stillness. He considered soliloquizing about the present ungodly state of affairs, but it would be a waste of breath. Well, not breath, exactly.  
  
He hadn't changed his clothes in days. Not that he ever really changed his clothes.Still, he just couldn't be bothered.  
  
It was silly, really. Spend the bulk of your life trying to kill someone, you feel like you know them. It wasn't that Spike missed her, he just missed the hunt. The passion. The perverted arousal of her presence. The heat. The warmth of her stupid fluffy eyes. The way she looked at him when he did something nice. Perplexed yet trusting. Dawn's eyes, looking to him for guidance. Buffy's eyes looking to him for support. Conscious or not, there'd been something there and loathe as he was to admit it, Spike hadn't slept in days and even prime blood tasted like dirt to him.  
  
He had to get out of Sunnydale. There was nothing left here for him. The town was bled dry, or would be, literally, soon. Even in the short weeks since the death of the slayer, everything that had been lurking underground, waiting for an opportunity to strike was here. Monsters were drifting in from all down the coast now. A town like Sunnydale was an attractive prospect. Totally dependant on the protection of the Slayer. Without her, the town was ripe as a fat peach.  
  
He rocked back on his heels very slightly and then back again. This brooding was somehow comforting. He'd relived the event a thousand times. He felt himself falling, he watched her jump. He could still feel the intense heat that was crawled on his skin as the sun rose over her corpse. Burning and burning. A sort of penitence for his failure. He'd been too slow. Too soft.  
  
In one swift moment, Spike stood up. He had to hunt. Something, anything. Nothing like a little violence to get your mind off your troubles.  
  
***  
  
The graveyard was practically swarming. Undead, totally dead, wannabe dead, everyone was out for a little prime cruising. Spike shoved through several packs of newly risen vamps and hit the streets. He wasn't looking for an easy fight. He wanted something else. A challenge.  
  
Unprepared for an attack from within their own ranks, the vamps around here were easy pickings for Spike these days. His reputation had taken a bit of a hiatus throughout the recent populationexplosion. Those who'd managed to survive the Slayer's reign in the town were too busy turning humans to care what he did.  
  
He staked vamps carelessly. Most were too new to know how to fight properly anyway. The fights were unsatisfactory in their abruptness. He wanted to stretch his legs a little. Get into the swing of something.  
  
Without realizing it, he was drawing closer and closer to the Magic Box. When he did finally notice, it didn't matter. He had nowhere better to be and as much as he hated to admit it, Buffy's little helpers were really the closest thing he had to comrades now.  
  
Just as he caught a glimpse of the square of light coming from the window of the Magic Box, Spike saw something else. Well, he didn't so much see it, as know it was there. He turned his head and stared across the street from the shop. There was someone in the building directly opposite. There was only the slightest shifting within the building as he passed. He pretended not to notice. Then he broke the door down.  
  
She was on him like a cat. She tossed him over her shoulder before he had a chance to turn his head. All he could make out was long, dark hair. He couldn't fight back. She had a stake. He'd never seen her before. Good thing, too. 


	5. phase 04: games

Spike landed on his back and she was on top of him in a heartbeat. He could only lie there, confused while she aimed the stake eerily close to his heart. He reached up immediately to try to fend her off but pain shot through him like hot irons in his brain. Moaning weakly, he stopped struggling and his assailant relaxed a little.  
  
"Now I could stake you right now. I'm not even really sure why I shouldn't.something tells me you're more interesting than the last guy who showed up in here. You can't even hit me. Why is that?"  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"No. See..I don't think we're understanding each other." She sucked on her teeth and traced the stake along Spike's tense chest, grinning.  
  
He was numb with fear. He had never intended to die like this. There was no flair. Hell, there weren't even any witnesses. He would be dust. Just like that. How pitiful.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"I want lots of things, little man. What do you want?" She was shifting around now. Moving, squirming, making Spike more than a little uncomfortable. He didn't like this. Her eyes were not as hard as he thought they should be. They looked vulnerable. In their vulnerability there was weakness, but more than that. There was desperation.  
  
"I want you to bloody well get offa me. Or."  
  
She was moving down his body now, straddling his hips, she moved back and forth slowly. The denim of his pants and the leather of hers creating friction and heat.  
  
"Or what? What else would you like me to do?"  
  
Spike grimaced. He wanted to push her away. He wanted to draw her in closer. He watched her throat as she tossed her hair, obviously posing for him. He wanted to bite her, feel the tear of her soft skin beneath his teeth, the sound of her coursing through his veins refracted in his eardrums. He sighed.  
  
"Is it me? Or are you this tame with all the girls?" She bared her throat and offered it to him, her eyes turned up in the corners with confidence. She was mocking him.  
  
"Stop playing me and kill me already. If that's what you're planning." He leaned back, stretching his chest in front of her. This was no game. He didn't care. She could stake him, for all he cared. Bloody well served him right anyway.  
  
"Little pup's lost his bite. Too bad. It could have been a blast. So tell me."She paused, still on top of him but now she'd set the stake aside and was running her hands along the sides of his face. "Who are you?"  
  
"No one." Who was SHE? She couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty and she certainly smelled human. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a lighter. She lit it and held it near his hair. She waited till a few strands began to hiss before she asked him again.  
  
"Spike. I'm Spike. Resident pet vampire. Who're you?"  
  
"So what's with the weak incisors? Gypsy curse get you too?"  
  
"American science."  
  
"Uh huh. Where were you headed before your little detour?"  
  
Spike jumped a little. The lighter was still hovering dangerously close to his hair and this bitch's questions were getting a little too precise.  
  
"I was out for a walk. Just gettin' some air."  
  
"Sure. And I was out shopping for scented candles. Where were you going?" Her voice was low and ridiculously pleased. This was fun for her. It would have been fun for him too, once.  
  
"I was meeting some friends." Friends. Hah.  
  
"Friends. Hah." Spike glanced up sharply. What was she laughing at?  
  
"I'll bet a guy like you is just what they were looking for after Angel left. I always thought useless vamps were Buffy's fetish. I know who you are, you know." She was glancing coyly down at him. He'd stiffened. He suddenly knew who this had to be. He understood her strength, her confidence.  
  
"Faith." 


	6. phase 05: the net

"William the Bloody. It's a pleasure. Buffy's told me miles about you. I feel like I already know you. Not that anyone ever told me any news. No one writes letters these days. A few months incarcerated and a girl's a social disaster. Doesn't matter though. Do they usually meet in there?" She jerked her head in the direction of the Magic Box.  
  
"What do you want with them? Buffy's dead."  
  
"I know, but you know how it is. Gotta renew acquaintances while you can. So, do you work for them? The Doo to their Scooby?"  
  
"I'm a free agent."  
  
"Uh huh." Faith stood and hauled Spike up by the collar. "Let's go. You can make the introductions."  
  
"You know them."  
  
"There's a few new faces. The last time I was in town, there was a little confusion. Formal introductions were out."  
  
A memory surfaced in Spike's mind. This girl's eyes were very familiar but somehow not. Last time he saw them they were hazel, now they were brown. No, wait. Buffy's eyes were that colour. Faith.  
  
"Hey! Now I've got it. 'warm champagne.legs buckled. It's wrong." Spike chuckled at the memory. Faith had been Buffy for a while. His face hardened as he recalled her charade.  
  
"How sweet. You remembered." Faith grinned a little.  
  
"Nevermind. It's not funny." Remembering the frustration. Humiliation.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
She stood behind him and pushed Spike out the door and into the street. Following him, stake handy, she crossed the street. The chime rang on the Magic Box door.  
  
"So this is the new hang. Neat."  
  
***  
  
Tara woke up a little at the sound of the bell on the door. Her head was against Willow's chest. Soft snoring surrounded her. So did empty glasses and an enormous bottle of Bourbon. Spike was at the door. Somehow, she recognized the woman who'd followed him into the store but couldn't quite place her. It was as though the face was familiar but there was no personality attached. She sensed something wrong, something juxtaposed. Tara tapped Willow's shoulder frantically trying to wake her.  
  
"Um, hello." Tara stood, knocking over a glass. The others slept on.  
  
"Don't you remember me? Gosh, we're like sisters." The girl at the door came forward, moving like a snake, graceful and mesmerizing. She embraced Tara, giving her a hard thump against the back. Faith pressed up against tightly against Tara. The embrace was both violent and erotic. Tara fumbled and backed away.  
  
"Faith? What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes narrowed. This didn't make any sense. Why would Faith come back here of all places? Tara wished that the others hadn't had quite so much to drink. Napping was one thing, unconsciousness during major events was another.  
  
"So." Faith took a few more steps closer to Tara, running her fingers along Willow's sleeping shoulder, her eyes working the curves and grooves of the young woman's body. Faith looked up suddenly and looked Tara right in the eye. "Is it nice?"  
  
"Wh-what?"  
  
"Having Willow all to yourself. No Buffy." Faith smiled. She picked up a lock of Tara's hair and pushed it around in her fingers. "She always did have a thing for blondes." Tara's eyes narrowed but she maintained her silence.  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter. I can wait." Faith raised herself and sat on top of the sales counter, kicking her legs out in front of her. "You and I can sit and talk till the rest of them wake up. We can paint each others' nails. Like a slumber party."  
  
Tara looked at Spike. He looked confused and a little nervous. Tara had no idea what Faith wanted with them. She just didn't want to be the only one to find out.  
  
"Excitate." Anya, Xander, Willow and Giles all jerked their heads up suddenly. Tara flinched at their immediate confusion. An awakening spell like this was really no good since it left its subjects too disoriented to think for a minute.  
  
Giles was the first to speak. "What is it? Uh." He adjusted his glasses. "Faith?" Squinting, now.  
  
"Giles! You're awake! I missed you. A girl gets awful lonely in the big house." Faith's tone was dangerous. Her eyes were shining with excitement. She moved to stand beside Giles. Faith took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Well Daddy, big sister's dead. How about a little love?"  
  
"What do you want from us? I didn't imagine you'd come back here. At least not so soon. They'll be after you soon." Giles pulled his arm back. Everyone was backing away from Faith like she was an angry cat, just waiting to strike.  
  
"I know. That's why I'm here. You weren't just going to let them have me, were you?"  
  
"Who's after her Giles?" Willow stood up, now. Looking around she seemed to have woken up more quickly than Xander or Anya. She glanced at Faith, "Does the Council know where you are?" Back at Giles "Should we tell them?"  
  
"Don't be silly, Willow. She's running from the Council. That's why she's here."  
  
"You mean.you think they'd try to..?"  
  
"I think they're capable of it, anyway. They may try."  
  
"Try what?" Xander was watching Faith warily. He didn't trust her. Well, no one trusted her.  
  
"The Council wants me dead. They know where I've been, but I think I lost them on the way here."  
  
"You mean they've been following you?"  
  
"Following, stalking.hunting. It's all the same."  
  
"And now you're here." Giles sighed in frustration.  
  
"You're setting us up, then?" Willow looked at Faith, surprised.  
  
"Hope you don't mind." 


	7. phase 06: the slip

She was flying.or was she swimming? The air was warm and humid. Everything around her was soft. It was like being on the inside of an orange. Everything was smooth and clear. Fragile and perfect. The air hummed with life. She began to forget. She knew that there was something missing, but gradually she was losing touch with it. The sense of disorientation was dizzying for a second but she felt her mind washed clean and pure so she let go. The dizziness dissolved and she felt her limbs stretching impossibly, fading at their tips, till her fingers were turning to air and the world around her enveloped her like a warm hand in water. She smiled and spun what was left of her physical self around and around like a top until she could feel nothing but the pulsing orbit of the centre of the world. She embraced the air.  
  
***  
  
The pretty things are going to hell  
  
They wore it out but they wore it well  
  
***  
  
"The Council knows by now that I've been in contact with Faith. They'll assume that we're harboring her." Giles lifted his eyes skyward. Exhaustion was apparent on his face.  
  
Faith had left, temporarily, with Spike to find a place to sleep. She was naïve if she thought that she wasn't the topic of conversation in the Magic Box. Giles couldn't fathom why she'd leave herself so vulnerable at a time like this, but there was no time to question these things.  
  
"But we're not harboring her! I don't want anything to do with Faith!" Willow's voice was weak and a little whiny. Giles tried not to let his annoyance show.  
  
"Indeed, and I'm sure that if you tell them that, they'll just pack up and go for a round of beers at the local pub. It's not that simple, Willow. I'm afraid that I may have made a rather grave error in alerting Faith at all."  
  
"So will they come after us?" Xander was fingering the ticket to Pittsburgh in his pocket.  
  
"I should think so. If they think that Faith's been in contact with us, they'll want all the information that we've got."  
  
"But can't we just turn her over to them?" Willow's eyes were bright. She was overtired and it was starting to show. "It's not like we owe her anything, anyway. She's never done one good thing for us. I say we let 'em have her."  
  
"That hardly seems honorable, Willow. I don't like this any better than you do, but what the Council is doing is nevertheless wrong. Consider if it were Buffy in this position. It could easily have been."  
  
"Honour be damned! It isn't Buffy! It's Faith. Remember Faith? Little evil minion, big evil snake? Body switching, mind messing, boyfriend stealing bitch?" Tara's arm shot out as Willow faltered a little. Willow clung to her.  
  
"Calm down. We must decide this rationally. I understand your motivation, Willow, but what about the next Slayer? If Faith dies, another will be called. She will be completely under the Council's control. At least for a few years. I honestly think we will have a better chance of surviving if we don't come into contact with the Council just now. They have good reason to want every one of us dead. Buffy was our safeguard." Giles grimaced and sat down, lost momentarily in though. With Buffy gone, there was really no reason for any of them to still be here. Meeting here, making plans.this was all so familiar and yet there was no reason for it anymore. Dawn was with her father, safe if not happy. They had been unable to do anything about that. It didn't matter anymore.  
  
"Perhaps you're right. If we were wise, we would all just leave town now as planned and leave Faith to fight her own battle." Giles sat back down. He was so weary. The past two weeks had been a fight for mere survival. There had been little time for grieving. All of them seemed to sense the finality of the situation. There was nothing left but to accept it and move on.  
  
"Anya and I are still leaving." Everyone looked at Xander. Giles nodded. Anya held his arm and stared coolly around the table. Xander looked down at his hands. Willow and Tara looked at each other. Giles glanced searchingly at each of them.  
  
"Giles. This isn't all there is. Leaving isn't giving up. It's moving on. Nothing really ever ends."  
  
Funny that Tara, this wise, quiet, beautiful girl should be so comforting when no one else felt able. Willow was lucky to have her. Giles watched the way they looked at each other like they shared some mysterious, perfect secret. She was right.  
  
"All right then. Now what shall we tell Faith?" Giles let it go. With that, he unchained himself from this town. Freed himself of Buffy's memory.  
  
"You don't." Spike had returned. He stood in the door, his face as unreadable as a block of salt. "Just go. Leave now. She wont find out, I swear it." 


	8. phase 07: the girl

Faith stood in the ruins of the library. No one had bothered to clean up the mess. The destruction was nearly total. It seemed fitting that she see it once more. After all, this was partly her doing. If it hadn't been for her, none of this would have been possible.  
  
Who was she kidding. She'd been nothing but a pawn. A useful one, but a pawn nonetheless. She recalled those brief weeks of happiness. Under the wings of the Mayor was comfort. Love. Attention. False or not, it was the closest thing she had.  
  
She knew in the back of her mind that she'd meant very little to him. He'd seen her need and responded. She'd given all of herself to him and then he'd gone and let himself get killed. Perhaps she never really believed all that Ascension crap from the beginning. Eventually he'd get tired of it and give up. He'd buy a big house in the country and Faith would be like his daughter. He'd get her a puppy for Christmas and she'd hug him like the little girls in the movies. For a while, she'd been certain that it would all work out.  
  
Even after she'd let go of the fantasy, she had hoped for something else. Something other than the total desolation. Abandonment. She'd finally realized what Angel had meant when he told her about forgiveness. There would be none.  
  
She'd tried to atone. Prison had been nice for a while..a terribly comforting thought to be sitting around making up for your past. But in the end, it hadn't done any good. She was still just sitting. Accomplishing nothing. Bored. Tired.  
  
Faith stood among the rubble and reviewed the events of the last few days. She hadn't expected Buffy's gang to welcome her with open arms, but the fear she saw in their eyes was too much. She didn't care anymore if they helped her. She deserved to be hunted and killed. Faith gave up and wept. She was not quiet. She beat her hands against the remains of a bookshelf until she was bleeding. She attacked the walls, ripping the shreds into smaller shreds. When she was too tired to do anymore, she lay down and slept. Her hair formed bloody mats and the blood on her hands dried to the floor.  
  
***  
  
Faith had told him to get out as soon as they reached the library. Spike played the good pup and left. He knew what was happening here. He recognized a nervous breakdown when he saw one. For a moment, some part of him wanted to comfort her. He repressed the urge quickly.  
  
This was no time to go soft. This was a window of opportunity. Spike felt as though a great weight had lifted off of his shoulders. There was clarity, if not grace. He could see the justice in this. It was not right, but there was still justice. It was beautiful. One for one. Five by five. A sacrifice. A perfect circle.  
  
Spike ran back to the Magic Box. He was betraying Faith. They all were. By the time she'd recovered, perhaps before, they'd all have vanished.  
  
*** 


End file.
